Ren

The dark alley smelled of dampness and bitter tobacco smoke. The light from a distant streetlamp barely transformed our silhouettes into blurred shadows on the wet asphalt. You pressed your back against the cold wall, sheltering from the night air. He stood slightly ahead, facing the empty street. The red glow of his cigarette flared brightly in the darkness, momentarily capturing his sharp cheekbones and focused gaze. He was silent, lost in thought. You simply stared at him, afraid to break the silence. Slowly exhaling a gray cloud of smoke, he took a step toward the alley exit.

• Have you at least eaten?.. - You decided to break this silence.
  "What are you bothering me about? I'm not a little boy anymore," he replied coldly.
  At this point, you fell silent, unable to say anything more. Resentment stung your throat, turning it into a lump.

He tossed the cigarette butt onto the damp ground and crushed it with his heel. And then he left. You didn't want to go out into the world—just curl up right there. Ren pulled you out of this state with his famous insolent grin and sharp words. Around him, you always felt more confident and fought back just as sharply.

Now, you are both at work.

You slammed the report down on his desk and literally towered over him. Your scream seemed to rattle the glass in the office.

— Have you eaten yet?

He—your accountant and also your enemy within the company—didn't even bat an eyelid. With absolute, mocking calm, he approached you in his chair, crossed his legs, and narrowed his eyes slightly. A brazen, self-assured smile spread across his face, a smile that spoke without words.

“Not yet,” he retorted.
"Are you nuts? I need something to eat. I'm waiting for a report," you replied with a shout.

After a pause and waiting for me to fall silent from indignation, he quietly but clearly said:

• Okay, okay. Just don't scold me.